


bless the broken road (that led me straight to you)

by fleuricity



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, fluffy as fuck, gilly boi is in love, i'm not even sorry, so much fucking pining, sue me, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleuricity/pseuds/fleuricity
Summary: She said she’s never been to the coast, and he volunteered to take her, because he’s an idiot with no filter and because he selfishly, despicably, wants (needs) all of her firsts to be with him.-or Gilbert Blythe decides to take Anne Shirley on a road trip, and hates himself for it.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 44
Kudos: 545





	bless the broken road (that led me straight to you)

**Author's Note:**

> So I was on a 5 hour road trip to Las Vegas, and got bored, so this happened. It was a lot of fun to write, though, so I hope you like it. A word of warning, it's sickeningly sweet. I just went all out. Also, I kind of switched a few things around so don't hate me (Gil's and english major and Anne's pre-med and she lives with Bash and Mary). I just wanted to try it out. Have fun!

In retrospect, he should have seen it coming. Because really, what else could he have expected of himself? Stuck with her and her glimmering eyes, and her enchanting smile, and that beautiful, fiery, ethereal red halo in his overwhelmingly cramped Honda for _hours_ , how could he have ever expected to do anything else? In the end, he couldn’t help himself.

Even though he promised himself he wouldn’t kiss her.

* * *

**7:00 am** _( 11 hours till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

She said she’s never been to the coast, and he volunteered to take her, because he’s an idiot with no filter and because he selfishly, despicably, wants _(needs)_ all of her firsts to be with him.

He’s been parked outside her place for a good fifteen minutes before she stumbles out, coffee in hand. And, despite being altogether a little more than frustrated at her ever present tardiness, he feels an insufferably fond smile start to form as he watches her wrinkle her nose and grimace after taking a sip of what he knows to be scorchingly hot coffee. Because she’s sleepy, and grumpy, and essentially the _most adorable human being_ , and because he’s a fool, a lovesick fool.

She proceeds to silently slip into his car, put down her coffee, and pull the seat belt across her chest, before turning to face him. “Hi Gil,” she mumbles as she moves forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek, before settling back into her seat and propping her dainty feet up on his dashboard. He forgets to breathe for a couple beats as his brain processes the feeling of her cool lips on his cheek, but quickly comes back to himself as he feins consternation and slaps her feet away. 

She pouts, but he shakes his head resolutely, “We’ve been over this, Anne-girl. Its a safety hazard. Say we get into an accident, and you snap clean in half? _Then_ who am I supposed to watch _Shameless_ with?”

She snorts and gives him a disbelieving look, “Don’t give me that Blythe. I know you’ve been watching without me. We share a Netflix, remember?”

He’s shaking his head and smiling as he pulls out of her driveway.

“Yeah I’m not doing that again. Just not worth it without your wonderfully insightful commentary.”

Then she’s laughing and he’s floating cuz, _god, what a sound._

* * *

**9:00 am** _(9 hours till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

They’ve had to stop a total of three times so far, much to Gilbert’s annoyance, because Anne insisted on finishing what she herself had deemed _‘fucking godawful’_ coffee. Gilbert made the mistake of asking why. Her response had been long and passionate, he could tell from the way her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes blazed. Something about being environmentally conscious. But as he had been momentarily distracted following the movement of her lips, he had to swerve to narrowly avoid nicking the car in the lane to his left, so he missed the rest of the tirade. 

And when Anne, smiling a bit sheepishly, had laid her hand on his arm and looked at him pleadingly, Gilbert just sighed and pulled over for the fourth time.

“ _Jesus,_ woman.”

“ I have a small bladder!”

* * *

**12:00 pm** _( 6 hours till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

They’ve opened both windows, and she’s stuck her head out, her porcelain little face tilted upward slightly, smiling against the wind. He’s sneaking glances at her every couple of seconds, as was his custom, whenever she was around. It’s a part of him, now. Just another fact. His name is Gilbert Blythe and he is so so in love with Anne Shirley.

Her _Greatest of the 80’s_ playlist was currently blasting through the speakers, consisting of quite possibly _every_ horribly cliche hairband in existence. He’d teased her mercilessly about it at first, but then she caught him quietly humming along to Air Supply, and hadn’t stopped smiling since. Which, again, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, because Anne Shirley’s smile is a thing to behold.

All of a sudden she squealed excitedly and leaned over to turn the music impossibly louder. A familiar sequence of chords caused him to groan in protest, but she just shushed him and when had he ever been able to refuse her?

 _“I can’t fight this feeling any longer,”_ she wails, and _oh god, oh god is he royally fucked._

_“And yet I’m still afraid to let it flow.”_

He turns his gaze straight ahead and refuses to look at her, praying that there was a God, praying that He’d take pity on his soul and save him the embarrassment of blushing. 

_“What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show.”_

He can’t look at her. He can’t look at her or she’ll see it, the look in his eyes, the truth on his face. He’s a coward, a _fucking coward,_ and she’s all he’s ever wanted and she’ll never know.

They’ve gotten to the chorus and she’s coaxed him into singing along, so now the both of them were screaming at the top of their lungs. His voice cracks on _“and I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might,”_ and she’s laughing again and he wants to be _everything_ to her, like she is to him.

She’s still smiling at him when they finish and he wishes he had a camera.

* * *

**12:30 pm** _(5 hours and 30 minutes till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

**Things Gilbert Blythe Hates About Traveling With Anne Shirley aka List A** _(compiled by said Gilbert Blythe in his head while said Anne Shirley was sleeping)_

1\. As they were crammed into such a frustratingly tight space, and she was occupying the seat _right next to him_ , the already unbearably sweet lavender smell of her hair was even more prominent.

2\. She had recently found an even more comfortable place to rest her head, which conveniently happened to be against his arm, which he had placed on the armrest between them. And now he so desperately wants to move it because, _fuck he can’t think,_ but he can’t risk waking her up.

3\. She’s nuzzling her cheek into his palm and _it’s worst it’s the worst it’s the worst,_ because she’s so so close and still so far away and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

**Things Gilbert Blythe Loves About Traveling With Anne Shirley aka List B** _(compiled by said Gilbert Blythe in his head while said Anne Shirley was sleeping)_

1\. See List A.

* * *

**1:30 pm** _(4 hours and 30 minutes till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

They spotted a Taco Bell on the side of the road and he pulled over, because Anne has a thing about eating while driving (“and the cheese just flies _everywhere_ , Gilbert!”), and she’s rubbed off on him a little. He was just polishing off the last of his burrito supreme when her phone dinged on the arm rest beside him.

He glances over at it for a second and quickly snaps his head away, feeling sick.

 **Roy:** _Tell me you’re free._

He pretends to be immersed in his phone when she smiles slightly and starts typing out a response. 

He can practically see Gardener on the other side of the line, that ever-present smug look on his face. Probably smirking too, _the bastard._

She met him at a party, one that Gilbert had (regrettably) refused to attend. Biology was kicking his ass, and he’d resigned himself to a full night of studying, pouting as Anne laughed at his misfortune with all of her pre- med arrogance. He’d kicked her out, claiming she was a distraction ( which she was, fucking _look_ at her ). Later, when he was in the midst of wallowing in his own misery ( he’s a fucking english major, what even _is_ the endocrine system?), he decided to take a much needed break and check his Instagram. A mistake, he’d come to realize. Because there, in all her red-headed glory, was Anne, all bright eyed and smiling, arms wrapped around _him_. Him being Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome himself, Roy _fucking_ Gardener.

When Anne called to let him know that she was safe at home (he’d made her promise), it was late. A little _too_ late, he’d realized with narrowed eyes. She dodged any and all of his attempts at questioning, claiming sleepiness and hanging up.

Later, after pestering her about it for hours, he’d found out that she ran into Gardener at the party, he got her a drink, and they talked for a while before he offered to drive her home. Rather vague, in his opinion, but he’ll take what be can get.

In the months that followed, Roy became a constant presence, as had Gilbert’s strained smiles and gritted teeth. Anne continued to insist they were just friends, claiming he wasn’t her type. And Roy, for his part, hadn’t made any outward advances to suggest his affections. But Gilbert saw through him. He saw all of the longing glances, all the fond smiles, the lingering hugs. It was like looking into a mirror. The fool had gone and fallen for her.

In the end, Gilbert couldn’t begrudge Roy for loving Anne. Having been part of that club for most of his life, Gilbert actually sympathized with the man. 

Still a bastard though.

* * *

**2:00 pm** _( 4 hours till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

**Stupid things Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley have argued over during this impossibly long trip**

1\. The temperature. He runs hot on principle while Anne is perpetually cold, so they’ve come to an impasse of sorts. She keeps secretly turning the heat on while he’s not looking, so he’s taken to lightly slapping her hands away. Her whining slowly eats away at his patience, until he snaps and pulls his sweatshirt off and throws it at her, forgetting he had nothing on underneath. That shuts her up pretty quickly.

2\. The music. He eventually gets tired of her playlist, demanding she turn it off before it does permanent damage. She gasps indignantly and falls quiet, turning away from him and staring intently at her phone. He just chuckles at her dramatics and waits for her to speak, turning back to the road. Ten minutes pass in silence, and he starts to wonder if he really fucked up, but then she looks up from her phone triumphantly and turns it towards him, grinning expectantly. _Anne and Gilbert’s Playlist_. She turns up the volume and Alex Turner’s gravelly voice sounds through the speakers. _Fuck, he loves this girl._

3\. Pit stops. He’d given in at first, always a sucker for the baby seal eyes, and pulled over when she’d seen an especially interesting tree (“It’s _calling_ to me, Gil”) and when they’d passed a particularly appealing fruit stand, (“ _Mangoes_ , Gilbert”). He’d put his foot down, however, when he saw her eyes light up as they passed an _antique furniture store._ There’s a back and forth, _of course,_ but he comes out victorious ( “You do not need a fucking _futon_ , Anne”).

* * *

**3:00 pm** _( 3 hours till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

They’ve settled into a peaceful sort of silence, and he sees her gazing out the window in his peripheral vision. It sends him back, this image of her, to when she lost her dad. _(Her fourteen, him sixteen, but only just. She didn’t have Bash back then, nor Mary. They would come later. There was only him. And if seeing her in pain didn’t absolutely kill his soul, he would have selfishly basked in that fleeting, fleeting moment, when he was everything to her.)_

He’d taken her on a drive on a particularly trying night (she’d cried so hard she’d almost stopped breathing, and by the time he’d calmed her down, his own tears were slipping down his cheeks) and she’d sat in the passenger seat, cheek to window, eyes closed. He’d taken her hand back then, as he did now. 

She turns to face him, glancing up at him shyly, and he swallows, willing his heart rate to cooperate. Its moments like these that mess with his head, moments when she looks at him like _that_ , and murmurs his name like _that_ , and he can’t even imagine a world where she _doesn’t_ love him. But then he remembers, remembers that they were best friends, that she _did_ love him, just not in the way he wanted _(needed)_ her to. Then she speaks, and suddenly he can’t.

“I slept with someone.”

He can’t breathe, his whole body just kind of freezes, and yeah he expected this one day, knew that her finding someone was an inevitability, knew he couldn’t keep her to himself forever, but _fuck if this doesn’t hurt._ He’s stammering, trying to think of a worthy reply. “Was.. was it-”

“Not Roy, no.”

He’d thought that would soothe him, the knowledge that Gardener hadn’t managed to be for her the person he himself had failed to become, but he was as tense as ever, heart hammering in his chest.

He’s scrambling for words, _anything_ really, but then she continues, “About a year ago. I just- it wasn’t… I just thought it would be different.”

And he really can’t believe this is his life, that they’re really discussing her sex life right now, a sex life that he’s not a part of to boot ( he’s _not_ bitter, he really isn’t). He decides to put aside his own feelings for the moment, for both their sakes, and replies hesitantly. 

“How so?” 

She pauses, and looks as though she’s repressing an immediate answer, hesitating before speaking.

“I was drunk, and he was there, and I can barely remember anything at all, to be honest. But it wasn’t right. _He_ wasn’t right.”

She looks up at him then, meeting his eyes hesitantly. He holds her gaze, unwilling to be the one to look away, to end this moment, even though he _told_ himself he wouldn’t do this, told himself to do stop dreaming, to stop wishing, to stop _hoping_ -

Her phone rings.

And then she’s answering it with an exasperated, “Mary, we’re _fine_..,” and he’s blowing out a breath, and she’s prattling on, and he’s not bitter, he’s _not._

* * *

**4:00 pm** _(2 hours till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

**Things Anne and Mary talk about (she’s put her on speakerphone) while Gilbert pretends not to listen**

1\. Grey’s Anatomy. He’s never really gotten into it, as him and blood don’t really get on too well (okay, so he fainted _once_ ), but those two are _obsessed_. Although, he’s been privy to too many of their conversations to know that they were more interested in the men then the medicine ( “Fucking Mcsteamy, though” “Girl, don’t even get me _started-_ ”). He doesn’t really see the appeal.

2\. Delphine. Anne brings her up, and then there’s a drawn out struggle (“Put her on the phone” “Anne, I just got her to settle-” “ _Please_ ”), and suddenly Anne’s cooing at a sleepy Delly, and Gilbert _melts._ (And then his brain just kind of betrays him, and suddenly there’s all the _what if’s_ and then there’s an _image_ and- he forces himself not to go there). She’d be a good mom though.

3\. Tampons. 

* * *

**5:00 pm** _( 1 hour till Gilbert Loses His Mind)_

She squeals, and he knows she’s seen it, so he hastens to pull over and get a good look at her, to see the expression on her face. And there’s that smile, that dreamy sigh, the one he’s been looking forward to all day.

“Oh Gil, it’s _magnificent_ ,” she breathes, and he can’t help but agree, his focus on the girl, not the ocean.

She’s so captivated, so completely enamoured, that he can’t help but let out a soft laugh at the irony.

“You've lived on an island for nineteen years, how have you never seen the sea?”

She seems to ponder this, looking out at the vast blueness in the distance, brows furrowed.

“I dunno, I guess I’ve just never gotten around to it.” A pause. “Dad would’ve loved this.”

He doesn’t hesitate to loop an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, and pressing a fond kiss to her forehead, breathing in the soft scent of her hair.

“He would’ve, Anne-girl. _So much_.”

She sighs and snuggles closer into his warmth, and he feels her soft breath against his chest. He’s suddenly overwhelmed by an abrupt wave of tenderness for this girl, for _his_ girl, and he hugs her tighter, pressing another kiss into her hair.

Suddenly she’s pulling away from him, a giddy smile on her face, already reaching for the car door.

“Well c’mon then Blythe, adventure awaits!”

And then he’s running after her, and there’s a fleeting thought that he’d spend the rest of his life trying to catch up with Anne Shirley.

* * *

**6:00 pm** _(Gilbert Actually Loses His Fucking Mind)_

He blames the sun. He blames the sun, and the sky, and the fucking pink tint that makes her face _glow_ , and he blames the way her eyes sparkle, and the way her cheeks dimple.

Suffice it to say, it really isn’t his fault when he turns his head to face her as they’re sitting side by side, looking out into the ocean. And he really couldn’t help it when he leaned slightly, resting his forehead against hers. And when he closes the distance between them, finally learning the feeling of her soft lips against his… well, he’s hardly to blame.

But then they're pulling apart, both breathing heavily, and he comes to the startling realization that _she’d kissed him back_ , and then the words are spilling out of his mouth, and this time, it’s entirely his fault.

“I love you.”

 _Fuck, he’s really lost it now._ He’s said it, and now he can’t take it back, and it just sits there, between them, and he doesn’t know what to do, and _what is actually wrong with him?_ Surely he’s insane, completely unstable, utterly-

“Say it again.”

 _What?_ He looks at her with uncertainty, a question in his eyes.

“Anne.. I-”

“I need you to say it again, _please_ Gilbert.”

And so, because _Anne Shirley_ had asked it, he sits up straighter, squares his shoulders, and whispers the only truth he’s ever known.

“I’m in love with you, carrots. Utterly, completely, scandalously.”

A beat.

And then she’s in his arms, and all around him, pressing firm kisses all over his face, his neck, his hands. He’s floating, high off the sound of her gentle laughter, off her tender caresses, off the feel of her slender form against him. But he’s also confused, this last turn of events rendering him speechless.

She pulls away from him, grinning brilliantly. 

“If only there were words to describe the love I have for you at this moment, Gilbert Blythe. You have no idea the happiness you have brought me.”

He can’t help it then, he surges forward. Her hands grab at his face, and his bury themselves in her hair, and _this_ is what he’s been waiting his entire life for. He feels her smile against his lips and then they’re both grinning like lovesick fools, and he finally figures it out.

Not crazy, no. Not insane. He’s just in love.

* * *

**Things Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley do once they realize they are both terribly in love with each other**

1\. Make out.

2\. No seriously, that's all they do. _For hours._

3\. It’s getting kind of ridiculous at this point.


End file.
